


through the curtains of the waterfall

by mashtonists



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, M/M, i guess, that's like literally it, they make out the whole time because I'm a freakin Wimp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mashtonists/pseuds/mashtonists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“You alright, kid?” Luke jolts at Han’s voice, muttering closer to his ear than Luke had anticipated. The smuggling compartment is small, sure, but not that small. Han has to know there’s enough space for them to not be sitting so close. Their feet knock together just slightly, spread out in front of them, and Luke knows it’s Han’s way of saying</em> I’m here.<em> He can sense it, but he isn’t sure if that’s a Force thing, or just a Han thing.</em></p><p> </p><p>(or, what could have happened in episode IV if Chewie wasn't such a cockblock.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	through the curtains of the waterfall

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first thing posted on ao3. wowie. I kinda thought it would be a 5SOS fic, but whaddaya know.
> 
> Ever since I first watched ANH I shipped these two, and I was always Obsessed with that one scene where they hide under the floor in those rly little smuggling compartments cause I knew what would be going down if Han and Luke weren't in the same compartment as Chewie. So, I wrote about it. 
> 
> This is also my first ever time writing a kissing scene or anything of that sort, so its not gonna be the greatest. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.
> 
> Title from Geronimo by Sheppard.

They have merely a minute to prepare before they’re sucked into the Death Star. Luckily C-3PO had noted that some of the escape pods had already been dispatched, and so Han inputs a false log recording an abandon ship—“A reactor leak”, he says, “large leak, very dangerous”— and they all stuff themselves under the floor panels just seconds before the Millennium Falcon is docked. 

Han had climbed in with Luke, and Chewie’d tried to follow, but there simply wasn’t enough room for the Wookie. Luke felt kind of bad about it at first, but not anymore, not with the incessant fear pounding through his veins and Han pressed up against him from shoulder to toe as they’re sitting; both are far too distracting to allow for any dumb emotions like sympathy to take hold. There’s no light under the floor, and Luke can hear the muffled sound of Imperial troops walking through the Falcon, and oh, hell _,_ what if they look under the floor, what if he’s not quiet enough, what if _—_

“You alright, kid?” Luke jolts at Han’s voice, muttering closer to his ear than Luke had anticipated. The smuggling compartment is small, sure, but not _that_ small. Han has to know there’s enough space for them to not be sitting so close. Their feet knock together just slightly, spread out in front of them, and Luke knows it’s Han’s way of saying _I’m here_. He can sense it, but he isn’t sure if that’s a Force thing, or just a Han thing. 

Luke realizes he hasn’t answered the question. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he whispers. “It’s just, I can’t imagine what would happen if they found us, you know, I mean I guess we’d be executed but then I’ll never get to learn how to be a Jedi and we won’t figure out where the Princess is or be able to save her and I just…” He trails off, then feels a little dumb. “I’m overthinking it, aren’t I?”

Han huffs out a laugh, but it’s not condescending. “Yeah, you are. You need to just take your mind off of what could happen if we’re caught. Focus on being quiet.” Luke nods, even though he knows the elder can’t see it. A few seconds pass, and Luke breaks the silence.

“It’s not working.” He can sense Han roll his eyes at this, and he frowns, hitting around where he hopes the other’s chest is. “Hey, don’t make fun of me.”

“How did you know I—”

“I don’t know. It’s like, a weird thing, like because of the Force or maybe just because it’s you, or, you know. Whatever.”

“Oh, because it’s me?” There’s a teasing tone to Han’s question, and it makes Luke’s cheeks burn with something like embarrassment. He always kind of gets like this, when Han makes fun of him or gives him one of those little smirks or calls him kid, as if it’s a term of endearment and not the way you greet a little grade schooler. Luke is nineteen, for God’s sake, its not like Han is _that_ much older than him anyhow.

(Not that it matters, not that Luke has been trying to guess how old Han is to see how large their age gap is. He hasn’t been, really.)

Han places a hand gently on Luke’s thigh, fingers only half outstretched so that he’s not gripping onto Luke, not really holding him. It’s not like Luke would mind that, no, not like he hasn’t thought a little about Han’s cockiness and air of dominance in confrontations, and how that could translate to… _other things,_ but he would never admit to it. Especially not now, with Han so close, with this whole thing so easy to fuck up.

No, right now the only thing on his mind is that hand, now pressing small circles into his thigh with its thumb, and Han’s voice low and hushed in his ear. 

“Want me to distract you for a minute? You can keep quiet, that way,” The teasing is still there, yes, but there’s also something heavier, some sort of hesitation even in Han’s confidence. Like he’s really asking, he’s unsure of Luke’s answer, unsure of something for once in his life. It’s almost endearing, if not for the fact that Luke is getting slightly more turned on by the minute.

“I don’t think I could keep very quiet if we—“

“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, we don’t have _that_ much time.” And they do, they definitely do, with the way just having Han close like this is getting his heart beating fast, Luke could finish in minutes, he knows it, but he doesn't dare argue with Han. “I was just thinking, you know…” And then there are fingertips skimming blindly across Luke’s chin, sliding down when they’ve found their place to cup Luke’s jaw and turn his head more towards Han’s. 

Luke doesn’t need any more indication, really, and surges forward to capture the pilot’s lips with his own. He overcompensates, a bit, didn’t really know how close the two were, so Han’s head is pushed backwards with the force of the kiss. “Easy, hotshot,” Han chuckles under his breath, gripping the back of Luke’s neck to pull him off a bit as he regains control; when he starts again he tilts their heads so Luke no longer has the upper hand.

The kiss is absolutely overwhelming, with Han’s lips moving firmly but feeling soft against Luke’s own, emotion and adrenaline rushing through him that make him completely forget about any fear he once felt. His hands end up entangled in Han’s hair and he’s pulling the older boy— the older _man_ — closer, closer, to the point where it feels physically impossible for there to be less space between them. Han is smirking ever so faintly against his lips, like he can tell how eager Luke is for it, and it only makes Luke dizzier. Strong hands grip the blond’s waist tightly, pulling him in until he finally takes the hint and swings a leg over Han’s two own, effectively straddling him. 

Luke feels it when Han hums contentedly against his mouth, the vibration seeming to shake all through the younger boy’s body even though in reality it doesn’t get far past his lips. Luke responds with an agreeing groan, one hand staying in Han’s hair as the other moves to the front of his shirt, the stupid white one with the deep collar that exposes all of Han’s muscular glory (and chest hair) and drives Luke absolutely insane. He grips the shirt on either of the opening with his one hand and yanks Han up into him, their chests together, kissing him impossibly deeper, until,

“Did you hear that?”

Luke breaks the kiss faster than you could say his own name, covering Han’s mouth with his hand. It’s a little wet, _with Luke's saliva, Jesus_ , and both of them are holding their breath in favor of gasping loudly for the air they don’t have. Luke realizes how carried away they’d gotten. 

“No, what’d you hear?” The second of the two stormtroopers walks down the hall above their heads. It sounds like they're no more than ten feet away.

“Nothing, I guess. Must’ve been this old rust bucket creaking and groaning. I don’t know why anyone would fly this piece of junk. It’s practically scrap metal.”

Luke stifles a giggle, knowing that hearing that will have Han in a pissy mood all day even without someone laughing about it. The troopers must decide that nothing is there to be found, for they exit the spacecraft. Seconds later, Luke stands up, pushing on the ceiling (which, technically, is the floor) and hops out. Han follows suit.

And if Obi-Wan notices anything, he doesn’t say so, merely giving Luke a small knowing smile, but Chewbacca takes one look at Han’s disheveled state and makes a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat.

“I know, Chewie,” Han smirks, “I’m glad you didn’t join us, too.”

 


End file.
